How Young and Innocent
by jennyfair
Summary: A series of RC oneshots from the ALW musical. Some are drabbles, some aren't, but none are very long.
1. Little Lotte I

_A/N: Thanks to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber. These little vignettes are dedicated to bee (sparklyscorpion)!_

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**Little Lotte I**

It was Christine, he was certain of it! Even after this time he knew her face, her voice. Though her aria was not yet finished Raoul stood to applaud her, despite disapproving looks from the two older men sitting beside him. He searched his pockets frantically for a slip of paper, finally begging one from M. André, and jotted a quick note that he hoped would stir her memories of their time together on the seashore. Handing it off to a mysterious woman in black for delivery, Raoul sat back and smiled at the thought of finding Little Lotte once more.


	2. Little Lotte II

**Little Lotte II**

"Two minutes, Little Lotte…" he added wistfully, taking his leave for a few moments to fetch his hat. She had received his note…received it and remembered him! Raoul had been more than surprised to see Christine on the stage that evening, and had written her a note that only she would understand. Not until he was standing outside her the door of her dressing-room after the performance did he fear that she would not remember him in turn. He made a quip about her red scarf, the one he had rescued, and her initially cold reaction had made his heart fall until finally she turned to look and her eyes lit up in recognition. She had leapt to her feet and embraced him then, stirring feelings he had harbored for her as a boy, feelings that had now matured into those of a man. Christine seemed to sense it as well, pulling away with a woman's concern for propriety. Still, his heart pounded to have her near to him once more.


	3. Reassurance

**Reassurance**

To be truthful I was glad to have the role of Serafimo and not that of the Countess. After the way I had sung in Hannibal, then far below the stage…no, I did not trust my own voice, or its ability to overtake me. I knew _he_ wished me in the lead role; the managers had tried to keep the fact from me but information flies swiftly through the Opera and I was not ignorant for long. A knot of fear began to form in my midsection. I glanced up to Box 5 from the wings, squinting to see Raoul beyond the lights of the stage. The white flash of his shirt against the box's dark curtains was a welcome source of reassurance. When we were children he had rescued my scarf from the sea despite the wind and waves--surely now that we were grown he would snatch me from the stage just as easily if I, too, were in danger of being swept away.


	4. Safety

**Safety**

Raoul's first thought as Buquet came tumbling down grotesquely from the flies was for Christine's safety. Barging his way down staircases and through hallways from Box Five to the stage, he scanned the crowd for Serafimo's boyish breeches but Christine had already changed into the Countess's costume. She saw him first and called his name. When he finally reached her Raoul threw his arms around her without concern for propriety. He would have taken her straight to his carriage, but instead she insisted upon leading him up to the roof where they would be "safe." _Safe from whom?_ he wondered.


	5. Hesitation

**Hesitation**

Christine looked up at him with a note of pleading in her eyes. She wanted him to speak the words but he hesitated, instead assuring her that she already knew the answer to her question. Raoul did love her, yet even now as he held her in his arms he feared her rejection. His gaze drifted down from her eyes to her mouth then back again, seeking her permission. She lifted her chin a fraction and he ducked his head shyly before pressing his lips to hers. She kissed him back and all seemed right, if only for a moment.


	6. Past, Present, Future

**Past, Present, Future**

Christine fingered the gold chain hanging around her neck, its end tucked safely below the neckline of her gown. Only in the privacy of her flat, like now, did she reveal the secret it concealed. Despite his assurances on the rooftop that night, part of her had doubted Raoul's sincerity in asking her to marry him. She knew her place in society as well as his, but when he had presented her with a ring and knelt before her all doubt was removed and she had accepted his proposal. She knew it hurt him to wear the ring about her neck and not proudly on her finger, and had tried to reassure him that in due time they would no longer need to hide.

She eyed the gold and diamonds, turning the small band under the light and watching the prisms it formed on the walls of her bedroom. Glancing around though she knew she was alone, Christine undid the clasp of the chain and slipped the ring from it onto her hand. It was so very different from the plain circle of gold her mother had worn, but she still flushed to think that, once they were free of Paris, she would wear it for the rest of her life. She smiled and admired it a moment longer before reluctantly returning it to its place above her heart.


	7. Endgame

**Endgame**

It was the only way. Even as I held Christine, reassuring her that no one could make her go through with it, secretly I knew that there was no other choice to bring this "phantom" to justice. I wished there were something else to be done, that I could offer myself up in her stead…and yet, I could not help the pang of jealousy that stung me as Christine hesitated. The monster had killed, would surely kill again, and yet she seemed almost to defend him! This madness would end, one way or another— and Christine was the key.


	8. Flutter

_A/N: This one was inspired by Tim Martin Gleason's Raoul, from this past week in the Vegas production--hooray for goofy grins!_

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**Flutter**

Christine dashed away, her cloak fluttering behind her in the night breeze as she crossed the roof of the Opera. She was at the top of the staircase, her foot poised to begin the descent, when I called after her. She turned and for a moment I feared I would hesitate once more, but before I could stop myself the words were spoken—"I love you." I felt myself grin foolishly when she ran forward to take my hands, the corners of her own mouth—the mouth I had so recently kissed—turned up in a smile of her own.


	9. Promises

**Promises**

He walked towards me intently, and when I shivered it was not from the cool night air. His face had aged since that summer at the seashore, but his eyes were the same--even now as they darkened with some new expression I had never seen in them before. We were no longer children, and I knew that when he promised always to be with me it would be as my husband, and I his wife. He lowered his head and I tipped my chin up in return, my lashes fluttering closed at the warm, reassuring press of his lips.


	10. Pursuit

_A/N: Shamelessly inspired by Michael Shawn Lewis's interpretation of Raoul...the Managers literally have to clothesline him to keep him from running offstage after the PoNR unmasking.

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**Pursuit**

Raoul felt the wind knocked out of his lungs as he ran into MM. Firmin and André, the two older men physically preventing him from pursuing Christine and the Phantom offstage. André tried to convince him of the danger involved, that he should let the Surêté take care of the matter, but Raoul would not trust anyone other than himself with Christine's safety. Making his way through the frantic crowd backstage, he sought out the one person who could help him—Mme. Giry—only to feel her bony grip on his wrist, urging his hand up to the level of his eyes.


	11. Insomnia

**Insomnia**

Raoul could not sleep, though not from lack of trying. Lying in bed more out of habit than out of actual hope of finally succumbing to Hypnos' call, he turned the previous night's events over and over in his mind—his rediscovery of Christine Daaé, her disappearance, the man's voice in her dressing-room… She had spoken to him of the Angel of Music, and outside her locked door he had heard the Voice identify itself as such…yet the black-edged letter he had received the following morning had been penned by all too mortal a creature. _Angel or madman, indeed…_


	12. Ghosts

**Ghosts**

Christine sat patiently on the floor of the stage, chatting with Meg as various members of the company introduced the new owners to the inner workings of the Opera, namely the Opera Ghost. It was a droning hum of voices until Mme Giry spoke, "Perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte de Changy as your patron." Christine perked up at the ballet mistress's words, turning to her friend and taking her hands. 

"What is it?" Meg asked, surprised by Christine's sudden movement. "The Vicomte, Meg--it's Raoul! From when I was a girl, at the seashore…I must have told you." When Meg nodded she continued wistfully, "It's been so long…how good to see him again! But would he even recognize me now?" Sensing the disappointment in the other girl's voice, Meg squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Before Christine could think about it any further she was pulled from her memories of the past and firmly replanted in the present. There was talk of an understudy for the recently self-absented Carlotta and Meg was on her feet, volunteering her for the part. Before she could say a word there were questions on all sides and M. Reyer was guiding her to the center of the stage, Elissa's scarf thrust into her trembling hands.


	13. Masquerade

**Masquerade**

He watched Christine as she danced with the other members of the _corps de ballet_, her star and moon crown allowing him to find her easily amidst the whirling colors of the other girls' costumes. She was smiling, which made him smile in turn. Christine had been so somber, so lost in her thoughts in the months following the chandelier incident, and Raoul's heart felt lighter to see her in good spirits. Though he would have preferred to see his ring on her finger than around her neck, he took comfort knowing that it was _his_ ring that she wore.


	14. Spark

_A/N: Back to the beginning a bit with this one._

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**Spark**

I paused for a moment at Christine's door before knocking and entering. "Christine Daaé, where is your red scarf?" I chided her playfully, but her reaction was one of polite stiffness and for a moment I feared that she would not remember me, after all. Hoping to spark her memory I went on to describe that day at the beach, and to my delight she finished the story and leapt up from her seat at the vanity to greet me. Her eyes sparkled as she threw her arms around me, and suddenly I felt as though I were fourteen again.


	15. Spin

**Spin**

Raoul stood in the wings as Christine took her bows. The audience rose to their feet, the "accident" with Buquet driven from their minds by her enchanting performance. He, too, had almost forgotten, but for another reason—the memory of their kisses on the roof were forefront in his mind as he watched her now. Suddenly, there was a roar that drowned out the crowd's applause, a flash as the chandelier began to fall. Without thinking, he dashed onto the stage, his arms closing about Christine as he lifted her from her feet and spun her out of harm's way.


End file.
